


Heartache

by sercotella



Series: Meredith Grey / Lone Wanderer Series [2]
Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Tragedy, Brotherhood of Steel (Fallout), Canon Compliant, Difficult Decisions, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Family Issues, Father-Daughter Relationship, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, POV Third Person, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Post-Canon, Post-War, Protectiveness, Religion, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26476936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sercotella/pseuds/sercotella
Summary: After three months of mysterious absence, the Lone Wanderer is finally found in Vault 106, living among the ghosts of her past. She refuses to face a reality that James is no longer a part of, and so Charon takes it upon himself to drag her back out into the wastes. He's been at her side ever since, mainly because she can't be trusted to take care of herself, and also because he wants to help her get over this overwhelming grief somehow.He has an idea, and he worries what could happen if she takes him up on it.
Relationships: Charon (Fallout)/Female Lone Wanderer
Series: Meredith Grey / Lone Wanderer Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924828
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Heartache

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! I return with more sadness and heartbreak, but not to worry - I am working on another installment to Meredith Grey's wasteland adventures and I will do my best to make part three as a happy ending to it all :) Thank you for reading, and enjoy!

The rain is heavy and deafening as it falls onto the rusted rooftops of Rivet City, and the noise travels throughout the ship with ease. It disturbs the sleeping citizens nestled within their respective cabins, and naturally reaches the clinic on the upper deck. Charon always found the sound to be comforting, even after the war, and for just a moment he allows himself to close his eyes and tune out the bloody procedure before him. He takes a deep breath.

There’s a pregnant woman on the operating table, and her eyes are closed under the heavy bouts of both anaesthesia and lethargy. Her body is cut open in the most morbid of ways, and Doctor Preston struggles to repair the ventricular tear under his fingertips. Mei Wong acts as a valued scrub nurse nearby, distributing utensils left and right, and by the protruding belly stands Meredith, elbow-deep in the woman’s uterus. 

Charon’s eyes finally open to land on his heart’s one and only desire – Meredith’s grey gaze is narrow and focused as her gloved hands reach around the patient’s insides, adjusting the baby’s position. Shortly after, she pulls out an infant through the open abdomen, plump and grimy and so ferociously loud. There’s another woman nearby, though Charon didn’t quite catch her name, who cuts the umbilical cord and takes the baby away for its APGAR test. She cleans the baby off with a damp, warm towel as Meredith’s deft, red-stained hands begin to close her patient up. 

The Rivet City clinic staff aren’t exactly sure why Charon stands at the back of the clinic to watch this operation, or the dozen before it, but to him it’s all quite simple. Ever since he’s carried her out of the psychedelic depths of Vault 106, he’s barely ever left Meredith’s side and tended to her every whim. He’s seen the debilitating effects of grief before, especially when faced with the mass casualties right after the Great War, and so he recognises her wild mood swings, unbridled rage and elongated sleeping hours as just that. He stays at her side as often as possible, because he knows she needs him now more than ever, even if she pushes him away more often than not.

Initially, Meredith couldn’t be trusted to take care of herself properly – most mornings she’d barely have the energy to lift her head off of her pillow. Charon’s the one to drag her to her feet, sometimes amidst verbal insults and other times through no protests whatsoever – he makes sure to prepare regular meals for her, even if she only takes a few bites and chooses to spend the rest of her morning by absent-mindedly swishing food around the plate. He washes her hair and face under the sink, arranges a fresh change of clothes for her each morning, and intertwines her arm over his as he leads her towards the upper dock of Rivet City for a short, silent walk and some fresh air. He begins to doubt himself when a number of weeks pass idly by with no improvement, but then one morning he gets an idea and he reprimands himself for not having thought of it before.

It’s difficult, at first, to convince Doctor Preston to take in a surgical intern – he’s swamped with work and insists that there’s no time to be teaching any dull-headed wastelander. When Meredith’s name is mentioned, however, he considers the idea because he knows she’s already received extensive medical training from none other than James Grey, the skilled physician that once shared much of his expertise with the wasteland surgeons such as himself.

When Meredith steps into the Rivet City clinic and sees the admitted patients, it’s as if a glint of life suddenly returns to her. She’s focused, intense and determined to not only keep her patient alive, but also keep them as pain-free and scar-free as possible. This surge of energy leaves her as soon as her shift is over, of course, but Charon deducts that this is a good first step – it keeps her mind occupied and she can save people, and that’s always something she was eager to do. The newfound purpose gives her reason to wake up in the morning, and though she still eats very little, it’s enough to give her energy for a series of surgeries. Charon could only wish she’d speak more.

Doctor Preston does little teaching, really – he watches her work for roughly two weeks before deducting that he indeed does have a skilled surgeon before him, and eventually hands her more and more incoming traumas. With that, Meredith ends up spending hours within the cold, metallic walls of the Rivet City clinic, surrounded by the smell of blood and antiseptic. Charon leaves her side only to purchase basic supplies and pay Vera Weatherly for the extended use of two of her hotel rooms, and then returns to stand in the shadows against the back wall of the clinic, watching her work her magic.

The famed Lone Wanderer’s movements on the operating table are unique, unlike any other doctor he’s seen in the Capital Wasteland – the way she twists her wrist as she sutures, or how only her index finger applies pressure on a scalpel, make him think she’s probably inherited all these small mannerisms from her father. Even the purple scrub cap adorning her caramel-blonde hair has just the faintest initials of ‘J.G’ stitched to the side, and before each procedure, Charon sees her thumb over the letters with evident longing and despondency. 

One of the monitors near Doctor Preston begins to beep erratically, and both surgeons jolt at the deteriorating vitals. Doctor Preston takes the lead, shouting for tools, and Meredith’s hands fly out of the patient’s abdomen. The woman’s heart is hugged by spoon-like defibrillator paddles and Preston yells “clear!” before sending a ripple of shock directly to the muscle, his eyes darting back and forth between the heart and the vitals’ monitor. He struggles like this for a long time, and despite his determination to resuscitate the woman, he eventually puts down the paddles and looks up at the clock overhead. Though Meredith’s features are mostly concealed by her face mask, her eyes look crestfallen as Preston calls out the time of death – 23:08.

Charon watches as the surgeons silently close their patient back up and clean her off of any blood or solution. He already knows what’s next, and watches Mei Wong as she calls up Father Clifford from Saint Monica’s Church for a honorary prayer for the departed. Doctor Preston used to roll his eyes at Meredith’s constant requests for Father Clifford’s presence – Charon himself didn’t consider Meredith to be religiously-inclined, until he noticed the Revelations 21:6 passage hanging over her bed, and then connected the dots to her late mother. It’s probably something that Catherine Grey would have done. Both men eventually grow to accept the frequent appearances of Father Clifford.

Charon walks Meredith back to her hotel room after the clinic is cleaned up – Doctor Preston prefers to do the night shifts and dismisses them to examine the premature baby delivered through the hastened C-section. Gary Staley’s delivery of fresh mirelurk cakes awaits them on the bedside table as they enter through the door, and for the first time in months, Charon sees the shadow of a smile on Meredith’s face as she approaches the plate. He makes a mental note to thank Staley for his good timing and generous portions, and though he didn’t expect this plan to work, he’s relieved to see Meredith’s day being lightened by her favourite snacks.

The smile disappears as soon as it begins though, and Meredith sits at the foot of the queen-sized bed, looking down at her shoes with a blank, numb expression. Charon kneels in front of her, grasping her smaller, smoother hands into his own, and though he looks up at her and hopes she’ll meet his gaze, she doesn’t, though she makes no effort to move away either. He can’t recall how many times they’ve sat like this, amidst silent, stagnant air, though he could count on his fingers the rare occasions where Meredith would actually look at him. He’s not sure which situation he disliked more, the lack of eye contact or its actual presence. 

He knows she’s angry at him for ripping her away from her ‘father’, or whatever illusion she was accompanied by throughout her provisional life at Vault 106. He can see it in her eyes when she occasionally decides to look at him – her gaze is glacial yet scalding, and though she rarely ever speaks anymore, her eyes do so for her. She’s not ready to move on, to accept her father’s tragic death, to live in a world without James. Charon sighs – is there anyone who truly is ready to move on from something like this? No, he deducts, most people are forced to move on, and they can either cave in to their weakness or rise above it, stronger than before. Charon decides he’ll do all he can to ensure Meredith would be the latter – it’s what her father would have wanted, even if she doesn’t realise it yet.

Since she won’t speak to him, Charon takes to assuming what’s on her mind tonight – he’s gotten quite good at this, he thinks, though there’s no-one to tell him when he is wrong. He remembers one of their past campfire conversations way back when, where she confessed her mother’s unfortunate passing and her own residual guilt at taking Catherine away from James. He figures that’s what she’s thinking of now – the birth complication, the survival of the child, the death of the loving mother – history repeating itself. This time however, there would be no doting father to look after the new-born. Father Clifford promised to ask around Rivet City and see who could take the child in as it recovers in one of the clinic’s scarce incubators.

Charon sighs, and presses the back of her palms against the ragged remains of his lips. If he could only give her some of his own willpower right now, pour it deep into her soul somehow, he would – he wills all of his strength and endurance to pass through to her now. He faintly smells the remains of brahmin soap and disinfectant on her skin and closes his eyes for a brief moment.

He wonders if perhaps he’s in love with her, because his heart never ached like this for another human being before. He enjoyed travelling at her side from the moment she bought his contract, and eventually grew fond of her good nature, her willingness to do good, her intelligence, and that soft, sweet laughter. He even stepped into the irradiated purifier for her, for God’s sake – though he never admitted it, the blast of rads did nearly knock him off his feet and practically suffocated him, but he did it because she couldn’t, because she asked him to, because he wanted her to remain safe. Though he was grateful to regain his freedom the moment she’s handed him his contract, he was heartbroken to leave her side. 

He sought her out the moment he’d stepped foot in Megaton and the erratic body of Moira Brown collapsed into his arms, desperately asking if he’s seen the Lone Wanderer because she’s disappeared three months ago. He battled his own demons through the psychedelic haze of Vault 106 but eventually found her and dragged her out, wailing and weak and calling out for her dad. He’s taken care of her since, offering her the patience of a saint, protection from those willing to harm a vulnerable woman, a purpose in life, even if it was temporary, and his companionship, even if she didn’t currently want it. 

Charon comes to the conclusion that if he was truly in love with her, it was probably unrequited, and that stung, though not as much as the sensation of Meredith’s hands slowly withdrawing from his grasp. She eventually rises from her feet and steps away from his kneeling form, headed for the bathroom, and Charon comforts himself with the thought that she had the energy to do that, at least.

He wonders if there was ever a time she was in love with him, but he was too thick in the head to realise it. Images flash before his eyes, excerpts from their past journeys where she’d trade with Moira Brown for the BlamCo Mac and Cheese he’s been so fond of, where she’d lean against him if she was tired, where she’d patch him up after a particularly feisty encounter with the Talon Company and her fingers would graze against his skin for an unnecessarily elongated moment. He swore she almost kissed him on one occasion, hovering over him when he pretended to be asleep. She leant over to him then, and seemed to watch his features for a while before finally withdrawing herself away and returning to her own bedroll, much to Charon’s current disappointment. If only he could rewind time, he’d grasp her cheeks and pull her down into a heated kiss without a hint of hesitation, and he’d barely let her take a breath before kissing her hungrily over and over again. He’d want her to know just how loved she really was.

The sound of a running shower reaches Charon’s ears through the closed bathroom doors, and for a moment he wonders if he’s doing the right thing. He’s given her a task that will keep her going from day to day, but that’s just it – it will only keep her going for so long, and on a grander scheme of things, Charon didn’t imagine the Lone Wanderer wanted to collect dust in a dank, rusted clinic. Meredith was meant for greater things, and her free-spirited nature despised extended stays in any of the Capital Wasteland’s settlements, Rivet City in particular. She loved being up and about on her feet, exploring the skeletons of pre-war architecture, finding rare technologies and collecting valuable loot for trade. She particularly liked working for the Brotherhood of Steel – the Lyons’ Pride had noble goals, though Charon knows they were only a rare splinter of a more overzealous, paramilitary, quasi-religious collective. 

He doesn’t like the idea that suddenly pops into his mind, but he knows he’d be doing Meredith a disservice if he didn’t voice it. The Brotherhood could offer her quite a lot, especially since she was already a Knight within their rankings – they had a myriad of missions both within the Citadel and outside of its walls, pre-war knowledge and technologies she liked to study, and more importantly, they seemed to form an extended family unit. They valued each other’s contributions and lives, and looked out for one another. That’s what Meredith could use right now, the Brotherhood’s company, and the fact that she was James’ daughter would only make them more open into accepting her in her current state.

Charon is not stupid though – he knows what the Brotherhood is really like, and while the Lyonses accepted him (though somewhat begrudgingly), the rest of the faction hated all matters of mutated life, no matter how conscious or peaceful. In Meredith’s weakened state, the more extreme members of the Brotherhood could indoctrinate her with their xenophobic bullshit, and that scares him to no end, but he also reminds himself that it’s Meredith he’s thinking about – her heart is in the right place and her morals remain grounded. She’d need the human contact though, the company of people who’d care for her and look out for her, and that is something Charon couldn’t singularly give her. He couldn’t keep her locked up in Rivet City under his watchful eye forever, and at that thought he swears he can feel James’ wrathful gaze burning through his scalp from up above. 

And so he decides, with a heavy heart, that the Brotherhood could be the best option for Meredith right now. She knows most of their D.C branch, getting along particularly well with Sentinel Lyons and her crew, and even befriended some of the Outcasts too - she could do some real, tangible good for the Capital Wasteland with their battalions at her side. Charon pushes his own feelings aside for her, because even though his heart was sure to break if she took him up on the idea, he’d sleep easy knowing she was safe and on her way to recovery, even if she was tens upon tens of miles apart from him.

Charon wonders just how badly she’s going to react to his sudden idea, and his heart beats heavily against his chest at the thought of losing her, but as the doors of the bathroom open, letting out a waft of heavy steam from within, he opens his mouth to speak.


End file.
